Falling For You
by Ryosei Takashi Hime
Summary: A 3x6 oneshot for Masako Moonshade.


Falling For You

7 sighed as she dragged her leg behind her, the weight there no match for that of the guilt weighing on her heart. The situation was in no way her fault, but the guilt remained none-the-less. She hated having to deal with either of the twins when they couldn't get their way. How had they ever gotten this clingy?! She stopped dragging the little stitchpunk across the floor, shoulders slumping in defeat, and turned. 4 – a few steps ahead of her – turned to look as well. 3 was latched onto 7's leg with the most pitiful look on her face – lower lip poked out, brows creased, optics wide and shining. 7 hated that look. She couldn't help it that 3 had twisted her ankle up last time they were out. She couldn't help it that 2 had told her to stay close until he was sure the repair would hold out. She couldn't help it, but those pleading optics and that heart-wrenching look of hurt and betrayal…. God, it ate her alive with guilt!

"Three, you know you can't go out," 7 moaned. "Just let Four record the book for you. I'll even bring it back if I can. I promise."

3 shook her head, arms tightening around 7's ankle. It had nothing to do with the massive black book they'd found when she'd injured herself. She just didn't want to be alone all day. What was she supposed to do without 4 or 7? She couldn't sit still long enough to hang around 2 and 5. They stayed in one place too long and were irritated by her constant interference when she tried to catalogue their inventions. Besides, her ankle was fine! She said as much in the flickers of light that mostly hit 7's foot as she looked down angrily. 4 peered around 7 as she watched the reflection of the flickers, guilt finding its way into her heart as well. 3 was so good at that – guilt trip, as they had learned it was called – though knowing what it was made it a bit less effective. 3 looked up as she stooped next to her, one hand gripping 7's arm for support. There were flickers of light and little clicks from 3 that steadily grew angrier then died down. 7 could only guess that 4 had won the argument. She grabbed her older sister under the arms and hefted her to her feet. 3 didn't resist 4's tugging, but remained somewhat limp, and the dejected look never left her face. There were more flashes exchanged that 7 didn't understand, but the outcome must have been good this time because a small, hesitant smile found its way onto 3's face. 4 returned the look and released her. 3 stood on her own, rubbing an arm softly as she tried not to make eye contact. She nodded slightly at 4 who touched 7's arm as she moved away. 7 kept her eyes on 3 as they slowly turned to leave, but she didn't follow this time. She just stood and watched them disappear into the Emptiness – without her.

She gave a huff of annoyance as she turned back to the large entrance hall of the Sanctuary. She felt awkward and alone without 4. She didn't think she'd ever been without her twin for more than a few minutes of her entire life. She still didn't understand why 4 couldn't stay with her. The book didn't look _that_ interesting. She wrung her hands a few times as she stared around the huge, empty, forlorn space nervously. Well, thinking about how alone she was wasn't going to help. She tried thinking about what 4 had said, instead, and that unsure smile returned to her face momentarily. Well, she could give it a try. She would never know if she didn't. She hurried to the bucket lift, hopped inside, and began to turn the lever with all her strength. Funny, this was usually a lot easier. Then again, she usually had 4 at her side. She tried to turn faster as a hollow feeling filled her chest. She knew she would be feeling like she was missing the other half of herself all day. She would just have to find her replacement quickly. He _was_ the only one who could take 4's place, after all.

As she reached her destination and the lift came to a stop, she ducked behind the lip of the bucket, optics barely peering over the top. She looked around the throne room warily. She didn't see 8 anywhere, but 1 sat in his throne as usual. Her fingers clacked against the bucket as she shifted nervously, and it caught 1's attention. He arched a stitched brow slightly and raised his head as he tried to get a look at his visitor. He couldn't see 3 from his position, but he was aware that the bucket had returned. 1 was fairly practiced in guessing arrivals before they exited the rickety hunk of metal thanks in part to his paranoia and in part to the fearfulness of some of his subjects. If he couldn't see its passengers, it was always the twins, being the shortest among them. He didn't get a visit from the two of them very often, and when he did, it was to call on 6. He didn't bother to stand, speaking before 3 could work up the courage to make herself known.

"Six isn't here," he stated simply. "I suggest you look elsewhere for your mischief."

3 didn't need to be told twice. She had no business here if 6 wasn't around. She certainly wasn't out to spend the day with their self-important leader. She began her descent immediately, trying to think of where he could possibly be. He did go to a room off the side of the large one filled with broken benches from time to time to retrieve more paper. An office, she thought it was called. It certainly contained a lot of the things she had in her catalogue about offices: paper, ink, pens, files, books, desk. Yeah, office, she decided. She hopped out of the lift as soon as it touched down and made a B-line for the room that held the most interesting things for the artist. She was certain he would be there and, sure enough, the door was slightly ajar when she arrived. Her inner workings sped up slightly as she pushed the door the rest of the way open, scurrying in with a smile.

A rustling from one of the desk drawers caught her attention. The whir inside her grew, and she waddled over as quickly as her short little legs would take her. It was nothing to scale the office chair, and she pulled herself into the seat in no time, staring up at the drawer. She could see a head bobbing around inside now – a head full of inky yarn. He was so absorbed in his search for clean paper that he hadn't noticed her arrival. She saw no way up to the desk from here and wondered how 6 had managed to reach such heights. She scanned the area for any hint and noticed a small object near the arm of the chair. She grinned to herself and decided to get his attention. Taking the partially hollow thing in her hands, she prepared to launch it at the distracted stitchpunk but stopped mid-throw. She looked from 6 to the pink, squishy thing in her hand. Well, she could document this thing first then toss it at 6's head. Her eyes flickered as she turned it over and over in her hands, fingers poking at the surface of the triangular tip and into the hollow end. What on earth did this thing do? She forgot about 6 momentarily as she tried to figure out this new thing, but the clicking of her shutters caught his attention shortly. He poked his head over the drawer and stared down at her.

"Three?" he asked, softly.

Three stopped immediately, as still as a snapshot, and stared up at 6 in surprise. Wait, what? She looked at the thing in her hands – an eraser – and back at 6. Oh, yeah. She remembered what she was doing now. She cocked her arm back and threw the eraser. 6 watched it arc through the air, following it even as it came down towards him. It hit him in the head and bounced off, rolling into a corner of the drawer. 6 looked slightly confused, rubbing his head where the eraser had hit. It obviously hadn't hurt, so 3 laughed silently. Her eyes flickered at him, knowing he had no way of understanding what she was saying. 6 watched her until she had finished, still rubbing his head, and answered as though he had understood her query.

"I…I have a rope," he said, pointing to the other side of the desk. "Over there."

3 clambered down from the chair, hurrying to the other side of the desk. She spotted the rope immediately, noting it was tied precariously to a lamp. She studied it for a moment before deciding that it would hold her weight and scaled the thin string 6 had somehow secured alone. That didn't worry her any. He could be resourceful and brilliant when he needed to be, especially if it got him a step closer to clean paper or fresh ink. She grabbed the top of the desk when she'd reached it, pulling her upper half over the edge, and 6 came to lend her a hand. She put her smaller digits in his pen-knib fingers, and he pulled her the rest of the way over. He almost toppled over from the force, and 3 hit his chest. He put his hands on her shoulders as he tried to regain balance and looked down into her face with a lopsided smile. She grinned back, her inners whirring a little faster.

"Where's Four?" he asked immediately, going to the ledge to help the second twin over as well.

3 sulked a little inside at that. She pointed out the window across from the desk in explanation.

"Why didn't you go?" 6 continued, returning to his search for paper.

3 crossed her arms haughtily and sat down. 6 looked over as she did so, a curious look on his face. 3 pointed to her foot sternly before crossing her arms again, keeping her eyes focused on the desk beneath her. She accessed a recording in her memory and played it back.

"Now, stay around the Sanctuary until I'm sure that holds," 2's voice chided from somewhere inside her. "That's a good girl."

"Oh. Right," 6 mumbled, turning over previously used papers to check the backs. "Your ankle."

3's face became resentful. She didn't like the way he just kept about his business without paying her any attention. His short responses – though to be fair hers were even shorter – were of a dismissive tone. She was in his way. She was in everyone's way. And her foot wasn't even hurt anymore! She sat in angry silence as 6 rummaged through another drawer for ink. He found none. 3 was glad. If she had a tongue she'd stick it out at him every time he ducked his head into the drawer. As it was, she just shot him death glares. He caught her, eventually, and looked around nervously.

"W-what's wrong?" he asked, becoming self-conscious.

3 stood and turned her back to the younger stitchpunk. She wasn't going to tell him – not that she _could_ – if he couldn't figure it out himself. He trotted over to her side, tried to peer around at her face, but she turned again. She kept her arms crossed more for the fact that she had no idea what to do with her hands without 4 to put them on, but it provided a great punctuation for her stubborn anger. 6 looked utterly baffled, and 3 decided he just wasn't going to get it. She gave a sigh and headed for the lamp, intending to find a nice, dark corner to hide in until 4 returned. This was her stupid suggestion. Try to get 6 to notice her? Right, like she ever thought that was going to work. She wasn't made of paper or ink. He couldn't care-

"W-wait!" he called, suddenly.

He tried to place himself in front of her as she was leaving. Okay, so she had managed to get his attention after all. It was too late, now. She continued on her way, ignoring him the way he had ignored her.

"Three, what's wrong?" he demanded with a bit of force behind his usually timid voice, standing in her way again.

She stopped and glared at him more intently, grabbing his shoulders. She pushed him to the side easily, 6 stumbling over his feet a little as she scurried past him. She tried to climb down the rope, but it seemed she had gotten 6's attention rather too effectively. And once 6's attention was this focused on something, he didn't easily let it break. She was surprised when he grabbed her wrist and turned to give him another look that would say just how she felt about that, but her foot slipped on the edge of the desk as she did so. A look of horror came over her face as she fell backwards.

6 felt himself pulled forward as 3 tittered on the edge briefly. She went down. 6 slid across the desk, hooked his fingers around the carriage return lever on an old, over-turned typewriter, and she slammed against the side of the desk. 6's eyes went from 3 – relieved that she was gripping his hand back now – to the typewriter. It was definitely large enough to hold their weight. His fingers were hooked at the pen knibs, so there was no worry that they'd slip. He returned his panicked gaze to 3 who was looking no calmer herself. She grasped at his arm frantically with her free hand.

"I've got you."

She started to kick her feet against the side of the desk. It did her no good. She wasn't going to find a foothold. 6 looked back at the typewriter. It was still holding. He was sure the huge black box was enough to hold their weight. He tried pulling 3, but as he pulled back, the lever slid forward. He stopped his tugging abruptly. That wouldn't work. When he looked back down, 3 was pointing frantically at the rope. 6 got the message, and she returned her fingers to his arm as he swung her from side to side. She reached out for the rope every time she got close, but it was always just out of reach. She began swinging as well, 6 being pulled forward a bit more by her efforts. He kept glancing back at the shifting lever, anxiously.

She got her fingers around the string at last, released 6's hand, and slammed into the side of the desk again. She made a face at this and 6 ran to help her up. She grabbed onto him with both hands this time and was quick to step away from the edge. She hid behind 6, gripping his arm as she stared at the edge of the desk. It had been quite the scare. A fall like that could have done more than twisted her ankle. 6 smiled hesitantly, turning to face her. She smiled back. He laughed a little and she felt that fast whirring of her insides. She threw her arms around his neck and he held her to his chest as they laughed – 3 silently, but just as joyously – relieved to be alive. It was as she was pulling away that a mischievous smile spread across 3's face. She kept her hands on 6's shoulders, leaned up as far as she could, and placed a kiss on his cheek. The baffled look on 6's face was priceless, but her nerve gave out. She gave him a shy smile and scurried off to the drawer to help in his search. 6 stood, rooted to the spot for a moment, unsure of how to react. She started digging around, so he joined her. This would take some time for his foggy mind to process. For the moment, his attention became focused on ink again, and he forgot the confusing gesture. 3 gave him secret glances all day, impatient for 4's return. She'd never believe she'd actually done it.

[OMG, it's super short, it's super cheesy, it's for Masako Moonshade! 8D She had a random hankering for the pairing, and there are no stories thus far about them as a pairing here to the best of my knowledge. So, here's my attempt at it. Let me know how I did with both characters. I've never tried writing a twin alone – or 3 as a girl – and I don't find myself very proficient with 6. It took a different direction than I had planned, too. That threw me off a little. The cheesy ending was still reached, though. Yay! X3]


End file.
